Breathe for Me

chapter Eighteen





Chelsea worked the phones like she’d never worked them before. Failed at the first fifteen calls—and the next fifteen. She probably needed to do this in person with the plans and her artist impressions to help people understand what she was on about. But she didn’t have time. As it was she was squeezing all these calls in amongst the data entry, filing and design mock-ups she was supposed to be doing as part of her internship. Fortunately Steve had turned out to be an awesome ally and a whiz at data entry. And even though she knew it was a lost cause already, given the pop-up had been scheduled to be built and go live this week, she refused to give up. She was not a quitter.

Except for when it came to Xander. But she wasn’t about to fight a battle she could never win. He’d had enough. He’d called it. But she was mad with him—he wanted more, yet wouldn’t give more. He had walls of steel around his heart and he wasn’t going to let anyone break them down.

Fine. She wasn’t going to hurt herself by trying. She wasn’t going to think about him any more.

“Hey Chels, you seen this?” Steve called across the small office.

She walked over to read the screen over his shoulder. “No way,” she breathed. “No way. Is it for real?”

Steve picked up the phone and handed it to her. “Only one way to find out.”

Some random company had put an offer of a tiny site on the Facebook page she’d created to detail and publicize the event. Her fingers trembled as she pushed the buttons to contact the person listed. Was it legit or not?



Xander couldn’t stay away. Late in the evening he walked down to the site with Hunter matching his stride. A small square structure was perched on the corner of a construction zone. Logan had worked damn fast—the legend. But Chelsea had worked even faster. To have achieved this in less than twenty-four hours?

But Xander couldn’t smile. He was thinking about her every second, every minute, every hour of this damn long day. Still dreaming up the most outrageous scenarios to see how far she’d get before she got the giggles. Not that there was any point in thinking that way. It was over.

But he couldn’t stay away. How she’d gotten the foundations done so quick he didn’t know. Then he saw the two builders grinning and chatting with her and figured it. It also ticked him off.

She glanced over and saw him. Her expression changed completely—instantly lighting. He felt an intense sense of pleasure that she responded so swiftly, so naturally like that. He couldn’t stop his own huge grin back. She might smile for others, but she ignited for him.

“Been sweet-talking guys to help you out again?” he teased as she walked towards him. He wished she’d sweet-talk him.

“They’re sponsors actually,” she answered earnestly. “I’m putting a sign up thanking their company.”

Yeah, it wasn’t for the company promo that those guys were working late. “It’s looking good.”

“Thanks,” she answered.

That’s when the awkwardness arose. It was like she’d just remembered they weren’t ‘together’ any more. Her face flooded with color and she turned away. “How did you find us?” she asked.

He held up his phone with her Facebook page on it.

“Oh.” She bit her lip and nodded. “Well you want to take a closer look? It’s getting there.” She walked him over towards the small shack.

It really was small, just big enough for the pizza oven and the work counter and a space under the roof for customers to linger while waiting for their pizzas.

They’d placed the plants all over the roof but were still working on filling the walls. She was putting the herbs in patterns—vertical stripes. It was amazing.

He watched as she bent and picked up some tools and a plant, readying to get back to work.

“When did you get so handy with a hammer?” he asked.

“And wire.” She laughed. “Needs must, right?”

Steve was in the far corner inside the small structure, stacking wood next to the small wood fired pizza oven.

Xander had to hand it to her. Was there anything—aside from getting into water— she couldn’t do?

“Are you going to make and serve the pizza as well?” he asked.

“Sometimes. But I wanted a stereotypical ‘Italian chef’ to engage the customers. See?” She pointed out the wall decorations.

Xander stepped closer to inspect them properly. In amongst the few plants that had already been placed were framed prints of the supposed ‘chef’ with famous New Yorkers. Xander frowned. ‘Luigi’ was in the same pose in every single image—the ‘guy’ was clearly Photoshopped in. “He’s not even Italian, is he?”

“No.” Chelsea started to laugh.

“And not even a ‘he’?”

She turned and waved towards the pavement. “See for yourself. He’s coming to do a test run.”

Sure enough ‘Luigi’—in full costume—was walking towards them carrying a giant bowl.

“This is crazy,” Xander muttered.

“I prefer to think quirky,” Chelsea corrected. “It’s part of the fun. People have expectations of a pizza stand, but we’re flipping it and giving them something else—something that bit twisted. Expectation versus reality.”

Xander nodded and then wandered out to find Hunter. He’d been walking around the site giving it the full recon.

“Security issues here, Xan.”

“Multiple.”

Hunter nodded and studied the plant ready framing again. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that Luigi guy isn’t a guy.”

“I had noticed.”

Hunter grunted then asked. “Why does she have some strip of girl cross-dressing as an ancient Italian guy?”

Xander shrugged. “Because she’s a little crazy.”

Hunter laughed. “So long as you realize it.”

“It’s okay,” Xander shrugged. “I’m a little crazy too.”

“I think I might be as well, because right now I’m finding the rear end of that old Italian guy an incredible turn on. You ever seen legs as long as those?”

Xander laughed. “Jeez Hunt, you’ve been in the desert too long.” The girl was a stick figure.

“Reckon so.” Hunter moved.

Xander went back to the counter to talk to Chelsea. Hunter was right, the security issues needed fixing. This time as he went under the framing, the scent hit him—all the herbs, the fresh dough Luigi was working on, the vibrant color of the tomato sauce. It looked fresh and good. There was a touch of Wonderland about the whole place. Xander thought it was delightful—but vulnerable. He looked around it again, focussing on the problem areas. “Is that Luigi creature going to be alone in here at night?” he quietly asked Chelsea who was still squeezing pots of herbs into place in the walls.

“Another of the volunteers will be around,” she answered distractedly.

Not Chelsea—not if Xander had anything to do with it. “A real man?”

At that she turned, a basil plant in hand. “You know on the surface you seem so apple pie.”

He frowned as he sized up the lack of lighting. What’d she mean by that?

“You know, the good old American upbringing—the apple of mom’s eye,” she explained. “Sporty, academic, successful. Life guard, ski patrol…”

Yeah, he still didn’t get where she was going, he was more interested in the lack of security cameras and wondering how he could install them without her thinking they were too intrusive and not artsy enough. “And your point?”

She cocked her head on a cute angle, an even cuter smile curved her lips. “Yet you’re constantly scoping places for security issues. How did you get into this? What made you so interested in it?”

He stopped his automatic site scrutiny and stared at her—clocking the bright curiosity in her eyes. She’d asked him for personal info before, but he’d denied her mostly. That, he suddenly realized, was his mistake. She wanted to know—she wanted to understand more about him. Maybe, just maybe, it was a way to build up some real trust between then. And while there were some things he’d never tell anyone, he could give her a little more than just sex secrets.

Chelsea smiled as she watched him automatically glance round again before turning towards her. She’d noticed it before—the way he scoped for threats, the weaknesses of wherever they happened to be. She could tell by the way his eyes had narrowed that he’d found plenty of weaknesses in the pop-up.

“I’m good at security because I know the mind of the criminal. The thief,” he said quietly.

Her jaw dropped. From surprise that he’d actually answered her as much as because of what he’d actually said. “You do?” Knew the mind of the thief? “How so?”

“My feckless father.”

His dad was a con? Chelsea’s pulse thudded—but that didn’t stop her pushing for more. “Was he a white collar crim?”

“He wasn’t that smart.” He grimaced but kept talking. “He was your common garden thug who’d bash someone and steal their purse.”

No way. Chelsea bit her lip and wondered what Xander had been exposed to. “He was desperate?”

“Don’t try to find excuses for him,” Xander said firmly. “He just got off on it. He liked burglary and theft. Liked to own.” A grim look froze Xander’s eyes. “He took me along with him when I was little.”

“No.” Appalled, she gazed up at him.

“I made a good look-out. And I had to or there’d be trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“I’m sure you can imagine.”

She could and she didn’t like what was flashing through her mind. “Were you scared?” She winced as soon as she’d asked. Stupid question.

“I was a seven year old boy sitting in a beat-up car in a broken down, violent as shit neighborhood. Yes, I was scared.” He walked out of the pop-up into the darkened evening.

Chelsea followed, sensing he was holding so much back. So much had been unsaid in that bare explanation. What had happened? She wasn’t going to get it from him—not now. And this wasn’t the place to push things further.

He’d turned back to look at the small structure from the outside. “As a result, I see things other people don’t tend to look for.” His tone lightened. “I see ledges and balconies, all kinds of exit and entry points. I see shadows and corners and places to hide.”

She shivered. But she knew he identified those to shine the light onto them—to help people. Save people. Protect.

“You going to let me help you out with these herbs again?” He turned to face her, eyeballing her—like he was daring her to refuse him. “Isn’t it supposed to be a collaborative, community thing?”

His eyes were too beautiful—that brilliant blue, and on his lips there was that irresistible, charming smile. How could she possibly resist? She handed him the basil plant. “Be my guest.”

An hour later all the plants had been placed—the leaves almost woven together to create the lush green walls. It was exactly as she’d envisioned it—beautiful.

“Come and try some!” Luisa called in her ridiculously un-Italian accent. She walked out of the pop-up holding out a giant tray.

Xander’s phone rang at the exact same time. He answered, gesturing for Chelsea to go get some anyway.

Chelsea blew on a piece of hot pizza, aware of the tall, silent Hunter standing beside her. The man was obviously made of iron given he made short work of the steaming hot pizza and was onto his second slice already.

His silence tweaked Chelsea’s nerves. He clearly didn’t do idle chit-chat, wasn’t the kind to say something for the sake of it and she couldn’t think of a thing to witter on about. Certainly wasn’t going to ask him about Xander. Not after Logan.

But then he finished that second slice and glanced at her. “Pizza’s good.”

“I’m so glad.” She really was. “Thanks for helping out.”

He shrugged like it was no bother and resumed his intent study of the people passing. Most stared at them to see what was going on. Some stopped to ask—Luisa was in full flight telling them all and handing out fliers. It was going to be a crazy busy couple of weeks.

“Your serving guy’s quite a character too.” Hunter said slowly. “Where’d you find her?”

Chelsea smiled. “She was the barista at the coffee cart outside work and was happy to take on something ransom. She’s travelling round and just happened to have worked in a pizza restaurant before—in New Zealand. That’s where she’s from. Not Italy.”

“You don’t say.”

Chelsea chuckled and took another look around the pop-up. The pizzas were good, the greenery was gorgeous, the pictures hilarious. “The inspectors are coming first thing to sign it off. Then we can start selling.”

“Fast work.”

She nodded, thrilled. “That’s part of the project. UP over night, here for a few days and then it vanishes.”

“Good thing that this site came up for you.”

Hunter knew about that? Xander must have told him. “Yeah, I can’t believe it.”

“Almost too good to be true, right?”

She turned and met Hunter’s eyes—discovered he was as good at staring right through people as Xander was. “Maybe?” she asked cautiously.

“Who is it who owns this site?”

“I’m not entirely sure, some consortium I think.”

Hunter made a sound that sounded like a cross between a mumble and a snort and wandered off.

Chelsea frowned as she watched him walk away. Why had he asked? Why had he questioned? It made her question.

She pulled out her phone and quickly Googled the name of the company the Facebook comment guy had given her. It was a holding company. She searched the info page—saw some of the subsidiaries listed, some of the management team were named and some of their recent deals were profiled. She paused as she read the third one down. They’d recently announced a collaboration with Logan Hughes?

Of course. Contacts. It was all about contacts and Logan Hughes had arranged this. Chelsea winced. What a fool she was. She’d been so glad to secure a spot she didn’t care who the site belonged to. She hadn’t taken the time to think how coincidental, how ‘too-perfect’ the timing was. But now it was all too obvious. Xander had pulled strings. He’d helped her out. He’d damn well rescued her.

And she was furious with him.